


Wish Fulfilment

by LittleMissO



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Smut, knee high boots, lots of smut, waistcoat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24593842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissO/pseuds/LittleMissO
Summary: For the amazing Jess, without whom I would never have dared write this. You're fab!
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 17
Kudos: 49
Collections: Jess Appreciation Day





	Wish Fulfilment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ktlsyrtis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktlsyrtis/gifts).



> For the amazing Jess, without whom I would never have dared write this. You're fab!

Bernie was starting to regret introducing Serena to Silent Witness. Bernie had been a fan for years, since the days of Sam Ryan. In fact it might have been Sam Ryan who attracted her to the show in the first place. It hadn’t been easy to keep up to date with it whilst she’d been on active duty, but she’d done her best. When she’d been back in the UK she’d always made a point to watch. She’d been delighted to discover, whilst she was recovering from the injuries she’d received from the IED explosion, that all the episodes – right back to the very first one – were available to watch on iPlayer. Re watching from the start had become an ongoing project. It had kept the frustration at bay whilst she was recuperating, kept her company on the lonely nights after she’d split from Marcus and the children had stopped talking to her, and provided undemanding and engrossing escapism after long and often stressful shifts at the hospital. Latterly they’d provided a chance to curl up with Serena on the sofa - a bottle of wine open on the table between them - and relax together. 

Somehow Silent Witness seemed to have passed Serena by – which was quite surprising. Usually Serena enjoyed a TV show with strong female characters. She’d decided against watching because of the inevitable misuse of medical terminology, procedural errors and glaring anomalies – which would likely render it more of a frustration than an enjoyable pass time. Serena had, however, been more than happy to join Bernie as she watched her way through season after season as long as there was wine. She was happy enough dropping in and out when they both had the free time, but not minding in the slightest if Bernie caught an episode she was on shift or out. It had all been working out rather well – that was until they reached some of the more recent episodes. Well, one double episode in particular. Bernie had thought that Serena was more interested in episode than she usually was, but she’d not really thought any more about it. 

She’d not really thought that much about it a couple of nights later when she’d come home from the hospital late, courtesy of an over running surgery, and found Serena at the end of a re-watch. It was unusual for Serena to re watch an episode, sure, but Serena has said there had been a couple of scenes she’d wanted to watch again. She felt she’d missed some vital stuff the first time round. It seemed fair enough to Bernie. It hadn’t been until about a week after that, when Bernie had unexpectedly come home early, that she’d realised that something was going on. 

She’d walked into the living room, intending to surprise her woman, only to be confronted by a slightly flustered Serena scrabbling to turn off whatever she was streaming on her tablet. The overly effusive welcome home she’d received had made Bernie wonder if it was a distraction technique.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Bernie said once Serena had put her down. “You can go back to whatever you were watching if you want. I was planning to have a shower before dinner anyway.”

“No, no it’s fine. It wasn’t anything special.” Serena had replied quickly. Too quickly Bernie had thought. “I’d much rather hear about your day.”

“What were you watching?” Bernie had asked, her interest now piqued. Serena had started to look decidedly flustered.

“Nothing much. Just some background noise really.”

“You seemed rather engrossed to me. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were watching something rather dodgy. You’ve not started watching Tic Tok videos have you?”

“No! Nothing like that!” Serena had protested.

“Then why all the secrecy?” Bernie had asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“No secrecy. It’s just boring. I was watching Silent Witness.” Serena had told her with an air of nonchalance that hadn’t been entirely convincing.

“The one with the body in the wall and the girl in cryogenic suspension.”

“That’s the one.”

“Again?” Bernie had asked bemused. 

“There’s not a limit on how many times I can watch it, is there?” Serena had said with a tinge of defensiveness in her voice .

“Of course not. I just didn’t realise that you were such a fan.”

“I’m not. It’s just this episode.” Serena had said, and Bernie had looked at her in confusion. “It’s that DI Raymond.”

“What about her” Bernie had asked, none the wiser. 

“She looks a bit like you, don’t you think?” Serene has asked as she handed Bernie her tablet, paused on a full length profile shot of Jill Raymond mid stride. Bernie had looked.

“I suppose she does a bit. Bit l don’t understand quite...” she’d stopped mid sentence as realisation had dawned on her. “Wait, are you telling me you’ve got a bit of a crush on this Jill Raymond?” Bernie had asked with a certain amount of incredulity. Serena had flushed a deep shade of red. She’s obviously a little embarrassed to have been called out, but clearly decided to attempt to brazen it out.

“It’s the waistcoats.” Serena had said slightly weakly. 

“Waistcoats?” Bernie had replied, visibly confused. 

“She looks rather good in the waistcoats she wears. I just don’t seem to be able to get enough of watching her in those fitted waistcoats. And the shirts. All tailored and with those cufflinks. But mainly it’s the waistcoats I’m watching for.” Serena had stopped speaking and held her breath, waiting to see what Bernie would say.

“So, you’ve got a bit of a thing about waistcoats then?”

“So it would seem.” Serena has said slightly defensively.

“And, what, you thought I’d judge you for it?” Bernie had asked.

“The possibility had crossed my mind. But, no, not really. It just felt a bit strange telling you.”

“But why?” Bernie had asked. “It’s not particularly shocking, or that big a deal. You like the idea of a woman in a waistcoat. Nothing wrong or shaming in that!”

“You don’t mind then?”

“Course not!” Bernie had replied as she pulled Serena into a hug. “Everyone has things they like.” She’d added as she wrapped her arms around Serena and pulled her closer. “In fact I think I might even have a waistcoat somewhere in one of my storage boxes. Maybe I should look it out if it’s going to have ‘that’ kind of effect on you.”

“Have you?” Serena had asked as casually as she could manage, but hadn’t been able to hide the perceptible gulp she’d made before she’d spoken, much to Bernie’s delight.

“Would you like me to wear it for you?”

“That would be nice.” Serena had replied, obviously pleased by this suggestion, but more cautiously than Bernie had anticipated she would have been. She’d looked down at Serena, whose head had been resting on her shoulder at this point, and tried to read the odd expression on her face. It takes her a moment or two to get it, but she does.

“Oh! It’s not just the waistcoat, is it? There’s something else, isn’t there?” Serena’s response, an unconvincing “No”, had been somewhat muffled by the fact that she’d had her head buried in Bernie’s shoulder. Bernie had pulled back slightly so she could see Serena’s face.

“There is, isn’t there? You can tell me. I’m not going to laugh or judge you, I promise.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Silly really.” Serena had declared, with an air of self dismissive air.

“No it’s not. If it’s something that you’d like I’d like to know.”

“Oh, alright.” Serena had said as she gave in. She’d turned in Bernie’s arms so she could whisper in her ear. Bernie had listened attentively to what she was saying. Her eyes had widened in surprise, and then a smile had curved the corners of her mouth. By the time Serena had finished explaining Bernie had a broad grin on her face.

“I think that might be arranged.” She’d said wickedly as Serena had looked up at her face to gauge her reaction. Serena’s only response had been an audible gulp.

That was how, some days later, Bernie found herself in their study, leaning against the desk, waiting for Serena to appear, feeling somewhat nervous. It wasn’t that she had any qualms at all about what they were going to do. Not in the slightest. She was very much for indulging Serena in her fantasy. It was harmless enough, and, in truth Bernie was rather looking forward to it. It had more than a little appeal to her too. It was just that she felt slightly strange dressing up. She’d never really been one for acting and wearing costumes. 

She fiddled with the cufflinks on her deep blue shirt, unaccustomed to their weight. Unable to settle, she tugged down the snugly fitting waistcoat till it settled on her hips and accentuated the dip of her waist. The black satin material felt cool and smooth under her hands. The heavier cotton fabric that made up the front panels was warmer and less yielding, but almost as smooth. She made a conscious effort to relax. It is, after all, Serena she’s waiting for. It’s not like they haven’t done this before – well perhaps not ‘quite’ like this, but it’s not as if either of them are shy virgins. And Serena had made it quite clear that this was very much something she wanted. There really was no reason to be nervous. And yet. And yet…

Bernie is prevented from any further introspection by the soft click of the office door opening. Bernie instinctively straightens up as she once would have done if a senior officer had entered a room. Serena slips quietly through the narrow gap of the half opened door. Bernie briefly wonders if she might be nervous as well before her brain freezes at the sight of Serena. She’s used to seeing Serena in her working wardrobe of black trousers and one of a range of brightly coloured loose blouses, or scrubs for theatre. Since they’ve been together, and especially since Bernie moved in with her, she’s been treated to a wider selection of Serena’s wardrobe. The jeans for casual days that cling so nicely to the curves of her hips and backside. The comfy pyjamas which made her look beyond cute and never failed to bring out Bernie’s cuddly side – which was usually very well hidden. Then there had been the blouses that had come out for date nights – more fitted and lower cut than she usually wore. She’d also been treated to several of the pieces in Serena’s extensive and luxurious lingerie collection. Some of them had been somewhat on the risqué side and Bernie had spent more time than she cared to admit wondering if Serena ever wore them to work. There had even been the occasional dress, but nothing like the one Serena was standing in front of her wearing. 

Bernie wasn’t exactly an expert in dresses, but to her it looked like it might be silk. It was a deep burgundy which made Serena’s skin glow with warmth. The sleeves were short and the bodice of the dress fitted snugly round Serena’s chest, emphasising every millimetre of her generous curves and highlighting her ample cleavage as effectively as a neon sign. The skirt, flaring slightly from Serena’s shapely hips, falls softly to a point just above her knees. As she walks into the room the material swishes and sways around her thighs in an imitation of the sway of her hips. There’s a bow nestling in the crook of Serena’s waist made of the same silky material as the rest of the dress. Bernie realises that the dress is a wrap around and the only thing keeping it together is that bow. Serena is every inch a present waiting to be unwrapped Bernie thinks, her mind unfreezing enough to allow coherent thought – but the newly regained faculty doesn’t last for long. Having managed to wrench her gaze away from the delights of the dress it alights on the knee high heeled boots her partner is wearing. A soft ‘oh’ escapes her lips.

“Is everything ok?” Serena asks, looking concerned, “Is this too much? I can change if...” she starts to to offer before Bernie cuts her off.

“No, no, nothing’s wrong. You look amazing. Don’t change a thing.” Bernie manages to tell her.

“The boots aren’t too much, are they? I’d almost forgotten I had them, but when you said how much you liked that woman in the play in boots I thought I ought to see if I still had them. It seemed only fair.”

“The boots are perfect. You’re perfect. You look good enough to eat. In fact, I might just do that.” Serena’s temporary uncertainty vanishes under the praise Bernie has just heaped on her. The surge of confidence it causes brings her flirtatious and wanton side to come the fore. 

You’re looking very tasty yourself.” Serena makes a thorough examination of Bernie, her eyes taking in every little detail. Bernie starts to feel her breathing quicken as Serena takes a step towards her. “I always knew that you’d look good in a waist coat. I just didn’t realise how good.” she adds as she closes the distance between them and puts a single finger on the notch in the middle of Bernie’s neck. She traces a straight line downwards, between the open sides of the top of Bernie’s shirt, along and beyond the scar from her surgery, until it’s nestling in her cleavage.

“I’m not sure that you should be allowed to look this good.” She puts her other hand on Bernie’s waist, flattening it out and spreading her fingers wide so they’re splayed out over the seam between the smooth satin and soft cotton of her waistcoat. 

“So I should wear waistcoats more often then?” Bernie asks as she slides her arm around Serena’s waist and draws her closer so that their bodies are pressed together, Serena’s hand, resting on Bernie’s chest, trapped between them.

“Oh no, I don’t think so. Not outside anyway. Wouldn’t want to be responsible for soaring blood pressure when people caught sight of you. You can wear it for me any time you like though.” Serena tells her with a raised eyebrow. Seeing the glint of mischief in her eyes Bernie decides that she can’t wait any longer and presses her lips to Serena’s. At first it’s a chaste (or as chaste as they get) meeting of lips, but Serena flickers her tongue against Bernie’s mouth and instinctively Bernie opens it slightly. Serena takes full advantage, applies gentle pressure, and gains full access. All hopes Bernie had of teasing, of holding back, are dashed as Serena’s tongue finds it way into her mouth. She gives herself up to the heady sensation of being, deeply and thoroughly, kissed by Serena Campbell – and of kissing her back enthusiastically. 

Bernie unwinds her arms from Serena’s waist, moving her hands to sit on Serena’s hips, holding her in place. Serena moans at the touch – the sound swallowed by Bernie’s kiss – but still noted. Encouraged, Bernie trails both hands downwards until they reach the swell of Serena’s buttocks. She cups one buttock in each hand, squeezes gently, savours the weight and plumpness. Serena gives a tiny whimper and Bernie responds by tightening her grip and pulling Serena to her so they are standing hip against hip, pelvis to pelvis, and holding her there. Their kissing doesn’t falter for a second. It’s hot and heavy. Highly charged and full of promise. Serena has been participating enthusiastically, hungrily even. Bernie is matching her. So Bernie is slightly bemused when Serena freezes and lets out an “oh” in a soft voice, so loaded with desire and want that it’s positively dripping. The sound travels straight to Bernie’s core, delivering an instant surge of heat. Serena pulls back from the kiss, leaving Bernie momentarily bereft. She moves her head back mere millimetres so that, whilst they’re no longer touching, Bernie’s her lips are hovering a mere breath away. Bernie takes in all she can of Serena’s face and sees that her eyes are wide. She can feel her breathing is shallow and rapid, coming in little puffs against her cheek.

“Is that…..? Are you…?” Serena mummers in a voice that could only be described as pure undiluted lust, and the words vibrate against Bernie’s lips as they leave Serena’s mouth. Serena moves the hand that was laying against Bernie’s chest. She trails it past the buttons on Bernie’s waist coat painfully slowly, drawing out every second of this slow and careful exploration, of the anticipation, delaying confirming what she’s sure she already knows she’s going to find, building up a sweet, delicious tension. 

Bernie lets her savour what she’s doing. Says nothing. Makes no move to stop her, no move to help her. She’s the passive foil to Serena’s attentions. Well, not entirely passive. She’s focussed on Serena, not looking at her, their faces are still too close together for that, but she’s acutely aware of every inch of Serena. She’s agonisingly aware of every sign of tension and anticipation in Serena, of every hint of arousal. She can feel the tautness of every muscle of Serena’s body, feel the breath on her face becoming shallower and shallower as Serena’s hand moves lower and lower. She can feel the heat coming from Serena in waves, and has to stop herself from imagining the glorious flush that would be rising across her chest right now. She knows it can’t be true, but Bernie even fancies that she can feel Serena’s increased heart rate jumping across the miniscule distance between them.

Serena’s hand reaches the button on top of Bernie’s fly and gives it a gentle flick. Abruptly, obviously running out of patience, she changes pace. Turning her hand round so her fingers are pointing towards the floor, she thrusts downwards, her palm covers Bernie’s pelvis, and her fingers slip between her legs. Her voice is lower and huskier than Bernie has ever heard it before when she purrs

“Ding dong!” elongating every syllable. It sounds like liquid sex. Her hand and fingers stroke and explore the unaccustomed, but not entirely unexpected, shape beneath them, familiarising herself with it’s length and breadth, gauging it’s firmness and pliability.

“Is this what I think it is?” she enquires.

“Exactly what you asked for.” Bernie confirms. Serena replies by almost slamming her mouth back on Bernie’s. Showing her pleasure with full soft lips and a clever teasing tongue. Her hand and fingers continue their exploration of Bernie’s groin, still trapped between the two of them. Bernie still has her hands on Serena’s backside – still holding her close still stroking and teasing the tempting soft globes.

“May I? Serena asks as her hand slips up to the top of Bernie’s fly and plays with the zip pull. Bernie nods her agreement and Serena takes the pull between two fingers and tugs it slowly and smoothly down. Both women hold their breath, as if by mutual agreement, as Serena’s fingers slip inside the open fly. Her fingers meet soft silicon, warmed by being in contact with Bernie’s body. She uses her finger tips to stroke the smooth material. First from side to side – the girth of the strap on causing an almost instantaneous ache between her legs; then along it’s length - over the ridges designed to give extra pleasure. She starts at it’s top, sitting just below the highest point of Bernie’s now open zipper to it’s flared base nestled between Bernie’s legs. The thought of what that length could do to her, what that girth could make her feel when it was inside her, made her legs tremble momentarily. Bernie clutches firmly at her backside to support her, which stops her slipping, but sets off another wave of sensations that only inflame the ache further. Serena’s fingers, still exploring, find and trace the leather straps she can reach as they dissect Bernies’ thighs and abdomen. She finds, centred low in Bernie’s pelvis, the metal ring holding the strap firmly in place.

When she feels that Serena has had enough time to get acquainted with their new toy, Bernie asks

“Does it meet with your approval?”

“Very much so.” Serena confirms. “You chose well. Very well.” 

“I think I did. Do you know what the best part is? It has ridges.”

“I can feel them.”

“Not the ones on the base you can’t. Not the ones on the inside of the base. Not the ones that are nestled up against my clit. Not the ones that are rubbing against me every time you touch or stroke it.” Serena’s eyes darken at the thought, at the delicious thought that Bernie is going to get, is getting, pleasure out of this. There isn’t much room for her hand to manoeuvrer in the open fly, but she manages to slip her fingers deep between Bernie’s legs, tangling them in the fine covering of hair. Bernie had sensibly decided to forgo underwear and so Serena is able to trace the shape of Bernie’s lower lips and feel the silicon shape settled between them, spreading them open. She drops her head forward and to one side, allowing it to rest on Bernie’s shoulder. She can’t see what’s going on between Bernie’s legs, but her fingers are telling her the story, and filling her head with the delicious, most abundant images. Tentatively Serena rocks the base of the strap, hardly moving it, but she is rewarded with the slightest stutter in Bernie’s breathing. Emboldened she moves her hand upwards, curls a couple of fingers around the thick shaft and strokes, making sure the action is firm enough to cause the whole thing to rock, right down to the base. This time there is a definite catch in Bernie’s breathing that goads Serena onwards. She tries more deliberate, firmer, movements, and Bernie groans. Her hand moves between them and claps itself over Serena’s, stilling her. 

“I thought the idea was that you wanted me to be in control?” she asks. Serena lifts her head up from Bernie’s shoulder and back far enough that she can see Bernie’s face with ease. 

“Absolutely.” Serena replies in tones of warm liquid honey.

“Then you’re going to have to learn to be patient.” she says as she removes Serena’s hands from between her legs, attempting not to let the look of disappointment coming from Serena sway her. “Not that patient though. I know we had plans, that there was a whole scenario we were going to play out, but I don’t think I can wait that long to make you fall apart, to make you scream. Any objections?” Although it had always been clear where they were going to end up, Bernie was proposing to skip a whole section on the way, and she needed to know that Serena was on board with it, was on the same page, enthusiastically on the same page.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Serena confirms. Bernie doesn’t wait to hear anything else. She’s had enough of holding back already. Gently pushing Serena a few steps away from her she uses the space she has created to turn round. In one dramatic gesture she stretches out her arm and sweeps it across the desk, scattering books, papers, pens and files in her wake, sending them floating, tumbling and thudding to the floor. When she turns back to Serena she has a wicked but genuine smile on her face. 

“You had that planned, didn’t you?” Serena says, noticing that the laptop was safely out of the way on a shelf and the potted plant is on the windowsill. “You couldn’t wait to do that, could you?”

“Not the only thing I can’t wait to do.” Bernie replies as she grips Serena’s waist and spins her round so her back is towards the desk. Bernie’s lips are back on Serena’s before she’s quite adjusted to her change of position, and she finds herself in the midst of an urgent and passionate kiss. Her focus moves from where she’s standing to returning the kiss with equal fervour. She’s so engrossed in this task she doesn’t notice Bernie is propelling her gently backwards until she’s against the desk; barely notices Bernie nudge her legs apart and stand herself between Serena’s thighs. She does notice the soft, pressure coming from Bernie as she sinks down to perch on the edge of the table. 

She’s fully invested in the messy, passionate, and full on kisses that she’s sharing, fully caught up in the moment, Her hand is creeping it’s way up to tangle itself in Bernie’s hair and keep her mouth pressed to hers. In spite of this she’s aware of Bernie’s hand between her shoulder blades, supporting her as she gently eases her back so she’s laying on the desk. Now she has nothing else to focus on but the feel of Bernie’s mouth on hers, her lips on hers, the softness of Bernie’s hair. Bernie moves forward into the little space that remains between them, opening Serena’s legs and letting the strap nudge against her pelvis. Instinctively, wanting more, Serena lifts up her legs wraps them around Bernie’s waist and draws her in even closer, maximising the contact as she gives herself up to pleasure and the control up to Bernie.


End file.
